


Your Sharks Should Give Me Some Sugar

by gecko818



Series: Spiders and Spice and Everything Nice [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Apartment, Boxers, M/M, Merthur - Freeform, Neighbors, insult-based flirting, sticky notes, television binging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 14:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2776412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gecko818/pseuds/gecko818
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While enjoying his one day off after a month of grueling work, Arthur overhears some noisy new neighbors moving in, which effectively interrupts his crap television binge marathon. Before long, this new neighbor -- Merlin -- comes a-knocking, asking for some sugar to bake cookies as a goodwill gesture to his new neighbors. After some unintentional partial nudity and some insult-based flirting, the two hit it off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Sharks Should Give Me Some Sugar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sirgvvaine](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sirgvvaine).



> Thank you for clicking this despite my inane titling and inadequate summarizing abilities. This story was written for my friend, Sarah, AKA sirgvvaine.

It was  _supposed_ to be his day off. His one rudding day off after weeks of scrambling to complete and present the quarterly report. Today was supposed to be a day of sleeping in to the oh-so-late hour of 6:00 AM without the shrill screech of his alarm clock, a day of binging the cumulated crappy reality TV shows that had aired in his absence, a day of sheer  _quiet_  bliss without simpering employees, harpies for sisters, or disenchanted tyrants for fathers. A day to be Arthur, the man currently sitting in nothing but his favorite pair of shark-patterned boxers on his couch, watching  _The Quest,_ hugging a throw pillow as he waited for the latest paladin's banishment from Everealm.

"DAMMIT MERLIN HOLD YER FECKIN END!" a voice shouted from the hall. New neighbors. Moving in. Loudly.  _Fantastic,_ Arthur thought, groaning as he increased the volume of his show. Of course some noisy guy would be moving in in place of old, demure Mrs. Godfrey. Arthur had liked the widow, and she seemed to at least tolerate his neighborly presence until her untimely death (an occasion marked by the inevitable stench that hung in the building for weeks to follow and the extraction of a dozen reptiles, poisonous amphibians, and the stray arachnid).  _At least the poor bastard probably got the rent cheap,_ Arthur mused, silently hoping that after this particularly raucous move-in, this new neighbor would keep to himself as his last had (perhaps not to the point where their death went unnoticed until the pungent odor had wafted into his own apartment. Arthur did not think he could manage to smell that ever again).

A few seconds passed, and a loud, metallic crash erupted from the hall, followed by a litany of creative swears. Arthur paused his show in annoyance, catching "sodding turnip nugget" and "ugly shart goblin" (to which there was an indignant, "THAT WAS ONE TIME!") before a slightly calmer, "ASS, you dropped that ON PURPOSE!" Snorting, Arthur hunkered further into the couch, for once thanking his thin walls. Forget reality television, this was great.

"Idiot! It fell on your end! YOU DROPPED IT ON YOURSELF YOU CLUMSY OAF!" the first voice rallied. Arthur pictured the man gesturing wildly to a box, full of kitchenware, tilted unceremoniously on the second man's (Marvin's?) toes.

A moment of silence passed between the two of them before Arthur heard an almost indistinguishable "oh".

 _Thud._ "Ow, what was that for?!" Did Marvin just punch man one?

"For letting me drop it on myself!"

"You're the moron who thought to pack everything in the most unwieldy of boxes! Honestly Merlin—" Merlin, not Marvin, Arthur noted.  _How odd._ "it's not like you're going to lose honor by taking all your damned heavy shit up in, you know, manageable increments!" More wild hand gesturing, undulating between the direction of the capsized box and the elevator down the hall, Arthur was sure.

There was a loud huff and jangling (someone attempting to pick up the box?). "Fine, whatever Will, just help me get this inside. We've got two more of these boxes…No, don't look at me like that! Yes, the beer's in the last box. No, I won't tell you which one…You're not skivving off on me early! Now come onnnn…." Merlin practically whined (and Arthur pictured a visible pout on what he imagined to be the man's face, round and childish).

"Will" let out an inarticulate (or at least to him) grumble that Arthur interpreted as consent at the sound of shifting metal and heavy footsteps leading to the neighbor's room.

After a few seconds of ensuring that there was no longer anything to miss, Arthur resumed his program, reducing the volume to its regular level, and smirked. At least this "Will" fellow didn't seem to live with Merlin. Maybe his nights  _would_ be quiet. If not, maybe _that_  wouldn't be too bad, either.

The rest of the move-in seemed to go without a hitch, and now unable to eavesdrop, Arthur tucked in a couple more episodes before switching over to  _Hoarders_ reruns (that he still devotedly watched despite the cancellation).

Around lunchtime, Merlin and Will said their goodbyes, and Arthur heard his new neighbor clank around (likely with the very cookware he'd dropped on his feet hours prior) in what he could only assume was the other man's kitchen. Moments later, he heard a door slam and a frantic knock on his own.

Pausing the show, Arthur rolled his eyes and rose. Despite his general rule to never open the door for anyone but takeout deliverers (lest Morgana think she can pop in unannounced as she pleases), he thought he could make an exception for the man he'd spent a part of the morning listening to. It's only polite.

Another knock sounded as Arthur made his way to his door. "Impatient, impatient, aren't you?" he asked, opening the door to a silly-looking man holding a glass measuring cup. Before Merlin could get a word in, Arthur continued, "You know, I could have been in my…oh." Looking down, he realized he actually  _was_ only in his boxers, and a faint blush crept around the back of his neck.

Merlin laughed, giving Arthur an appraising look, seeming satisfied by the results. "You could have been in your what, exactly? Your clothes?" the brunet chuckled, his eyes twinkling in amusement at the thought of Arthur specifically stripping to open the door like a reverse strip-o-gram.

Arthur's eyes widened as he sputtered, not exactly sure what to say to the neighbor who most definitely did  _not_ have a round, childish face or stature, what with that angular face and lanky, lean height, accentuated by the oversized clothing that draped across his body. In fact, the only thing vaguely childish was that stupid grin and mischievous eyes, hidden beneath an unruly mop of hair. Arthur subconsciously closed the door a little to hide. Usually he didn't mind parading around naked (as many delivery drivers would claim), but this was just embarrassing, not even remembering his own state of undress in front of someone who was decidedly his type.

Arthur bumped his head against the inside of his door and took a second to breathe, grumbling instead, "What do you want?"

Still smiling that stupid, imperious smile, Merlin replied, "Uhh…A cup of sugar actually. I was planning on baking some cookies and giving them to everyone, but I uh, forgot it at the store."

"You...want me to give you some sugar," Arthur stated plainly, sobered by the request. Who even does that? Asking for a cup of sugar. The blond had always figured that was just one of those things that never actually happened except in bad stories (or porn).

Merlin bit back a grin. "You know, I'll take what I can get."

Completely oblivious, Arthur persisted, "But isn't that totally contrary, asking  _me_ for sugar so you can make cookies – most of which aren't even  _for_ me. Or you. You're asking  _me_ to be neighborly so  _you_ can be neighborly."

"Well, uh, yeah. But I was hoping the future reciprocation would cause feelings of goodwill on your part?" Merlin fidgeted nervously, his voice rising slightly as he finished the sentence.

Arthur laughed, and Merlin froze. "Look, I actually don't have any sugar to give you even if I wanted to. Try Alice down the hall in 318. She bakes a lot. Her and her husband, Gaius, are always foisting sweets on us."

"Oh, well, um, should I not bake cookies?"

"No, no, please do." Arthur popped his head out the door and noted that no one else was in the hall. "Especially if they're better than Alice's – don't you dare tell her I said that I will never hear the end of it. The two of them run some health store. Supposedly they're good at that kind of thing, but you know, good medicine not tasting good? Well, that kind of translates to the baking," Arthur said, his voice purposefully lowered and eyes downcast.

Merlin laughed. "Oh well, thanks. I, uh, I guess I'll go ask them? 318, right?" Arthur nodded and started closing the door before the other man stopped him. "Wait, I always forget this part. I'm Merlin!" He stuck out his right hand, measuring cup and all. It took him a second to look down at the offending object and glare. Arthur could swear he saw the cogs turning in Merlin's brain as he switched the measuring cup to his left.

"Idiot," Arthur mumbled with a fond smile as he extended his own hand.

Before touching, Merlin yoinked his hand back upright and shot Arthur a serious look. "You're Idiot? That's unfortunate, I think Prat suits you better."

Arthur laughed and corrected, "Arthur. I don't know, I think Idiot has the makings of a fine name. Especially whilst in your company."

Merlin snickered, but still didn't lower his hand, giving Arthur a distrustful, sidelong glance. "Wait, before we shake hands. You haven't been, you know?" The brunet made an obscene gesture with his hand, waving to indicate Arthur's general state of undress.

Bristling, Arthur stuttered, "No…Just crap television." Merlin beamed and extended his hand once more, giving Arthur's a firm shake. "Besides, for that? I'm a lefty anyways," Arthur offered after his arm had returned to his side.

"Too much information!" Merlin cried, waving the measuring cup in Arthur's general direction as he covered his reddening face with his free hand. Arthur watched the tips of Merlin's ears turn, and he momentarily considered what else he could make red…  _Stop that._

It took Merlin a couple seconds to finally have the confidence to remove his hand despite his still-flustered features and regain the semblance of composure. "Oh, uh, one last question? Do they bite?"

"What?" Arthur asked, genuinely confused.

"The sharks." Merlin pointed to Arthur's underwear.

Arthur looked down and flushed. "Uh, no?"

"Pity," Merlin's face fell. "I like things that bite." Evidently embarrassing even himself, the brunet turned on his heel and called, "See you around Arthur!"

Arthur, who had immediately hidden his response behind the safety of his door, weakly returned, "Bye Merlin."

Closing the door behind him, Arthur swore he could hear a loud "HA!", but chose to ignore it. Letting Merlin think he won would just be best for them all.

The next day after work, Arthur found some cookies taped to his door with a note that simply read, "To: Prat, Who Is Decidedly NOT Idiot." Grinning, he took them inside. After setting down his briefcase, Arthur plopped into his favorite reading chair and opened the Ziploc bag. As he took a bite, he melted into the chair.

_To Idiot: Cookies were alright. Would be better with coffee. Care to get some?_

_To Prat: You know they were delicious don't lie. But coffee always makes things better. Even your presence, I'm sure._

_To Idiot: Your cookies are more charming. If they replaced your mouth, maybe you'd be a little sweeter? And Sunday at 2? Does that work?_

_To Prat: I'm sure there are other things that I could put in my mouth that would make me significantly more charming. And if I were any sweeter, you'd have a stroke. Where?_

_To Idiot: I'm sure I would. A stroke is merely an escape to your accompaniment. 569-15XX Text me I'll tell you?_

From: 924-37XX

_Prat. Thank god. Gaius started giving me "the eyebrow". Apparently sticky notes on doors aren't subtle. Who'd have thought?_

From: Arthur (His Pratness)

_Poor bastard. I haven't had to see him lately. Though last time he caught me I was actually ill. Hide when that happens. Anyways, Rising Sun? It's just down the way. If I haven't seen it by now, you're obviously both blind AND an idiot. Idiot._

From: Merlin

_It's a date. Prat._

_**End** _

**Author's Note:**

> There's more I promise! I'm posting these all as individual fics even though they fit along the same timeline (mostly because I'm not only shite at titling, but summarizing). The second part "Mrs. Godfrey's Spider" will be posted sometime tomorrow, December 16th. Brief Introduction: As Arthur is relaxing after work, reminiscing about his and Merlin's previous dates, he hears a bloodcurdling scream from next door.
> 
> If you liked the story, don't forget to give me kudos or drop a comment! If you'd like to read more of my whackadoodle whatever this is I'm doing, make sure to subscribe so you don't miss any part of the series! (So far there are two written, two in the works, plus one other thing separate but nearly finished.)
> 
> \- gecko


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